The Girl Who Loved You Know Who
by Three People Trying To Write
Summary: Before he realized his full potential as the Dark Lord, there was a girl, in whose eyes he could do no wrong.... (Not cliche, I promise :) Completed
1. Chapter One

            The library was open late N.E.W.T.s week, much to Kate Gibbs' relief. How many hours had she spent studying for her transfiguration test? Fifteen? Twenty? It never seemed enough. At least Professor Dumbledore assured her she would do fine, his word meant something. Especially because he was kind enough to say so after he woke her one night and she accidentally transfigured his pointed hat into a possum. Indeed, he took it rather well, but Tom had had quite the laugh at her expense. She felt foolish enough around him, why did that have to go and happen? 

            _He could've had the decency to be somewhere else,_ she thought, skimming the bookshelves that night. Though, no doubt, his common room was just as packed with noisy, unsympathetic children as her own. No, the library was the only place where one could be certain to find some quiet. Madam Pince made sure of that.

            Now Kate realized she had stopped in front of a copy of Outsmarting Fate by Rosemary Dumed. It took a moment for the reason to dawn on her: he was on the other side of that very shelf.

            Kate was by no means a dumb girl when it came to boys. She considered herself downright wise in the ways of teenage relationships, having been in many herself and had more than a few friends come cry on her shoulder. She was perfectly aware of the fact that she was not the only girl who fancied Tom Riddle. He had it all--smarts, looks, wit, not to mention the way his eyes seemed to see right through you, as if he were probing your mind whilst you spoke. Some found this strange, but she thought it was enthralling. Her simple crush had been growing over the years, and--though she knew this too was probably just wishful thinking--she felt she had some kind of connection with him that no one else did. Here is a boy, she told herself, who could give a girl everything she'd ever wanted.

            Of course, now she wanted _him_, and that was the catch, wasn't it. Oh well, there must be ways. Yet some nagging part of her brain told her to quit before she made an ever more complete fool of herself. "Look at you," it said, and subconsciously she did. "You're four feet, eleven inches tall, for crying out loud. If it weren't for your boobs you could pass for a ten-year-old. This crush is childish, you are childish. Save face, Kate."

            Briefly she wondered if that was her reasonable or negative side speaking. Her height (or lack thereof) annoyed her to no end, but she refused to let anyone come near her with a bottle of Skele-Gro or the like. The risk of ending up freakishly mal-proportioned far outweighed the troubles of being very short. As far as looking like a child, well, she'd been through that already. It was just one of those things you had to live with: no one taking you seriously, never being offered coffee, getting into events under children's fare. (All right, that part wasn't so bad.)

            So now she stood, nervously fingering her plain dark hair, hoping it looked good. Looking through a set of library shelves at the boy she'd sat next to all year in NEWT transfiguration, the boy she'd often spoken with but never managed to say anything to so he might think of her once in a while. As their last year at Hogwarts wound down, she began to panic. If she didn't act now, what were the odds of ever finding each other again? Not that she expected them to get married or something, but she knew she had to act, otherwise this would just be another painful situation she would look back on and thing, "what if". No, it was now or possibly never.

             "Hey, Tom," she said, strolling calmly out of her hiding place, as though she'd just happened to see him there and thought she'd sit down for a chat. 

            "Hi, Kate," he replied, looking up. He didn't seem the least bit surprised to see her, contrary to what she expected.

            Sliding into the seat next to him, she established step one: affirm the obvious. "Studying for transfig?"

            "Yeah," said Tom wearily. "I skipped dinner, and I still think I'll get a 'T' tomorrow." As he ran his hand through his hair, those penetrating eyes flicked up to meet hers. 

            _He must be joking,_ Kate thought, looking back at him. _The Head Boy, fishing for compliments…._

            Was it just coincidence, or even imagination, that he smiled when she thought this?

             "I know what you mean," was all she said. "You can take a short break. Talk to me." 

            This time he really did smile, and she encouraged it with one of her most flirtatious looks. He leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. "So what shall we talk about, Miss Kate Gibbs?"

            She shrugged. "I dunno. How about, 'what're you doing when you get out of here'."

            Tom hesitated, then looked around the library as if checking for spies (or people eavesdropping on their oh-so-scintillating conversation). "Promise you won't tell anyone?" he whispered.

             "Promise," Kate replied. Her big eyes sparkled with the idea of a secret. "What, are you going to go smuggle beast eggs and things? You're smart enough. I bet you could trick the Ministry any old day."

            He laughed, a light, genuine laughter that fell softly from his open mouth. "I'm flattered you think so."

            Kate found herself giggling as well, though she was not sure what at. _Stop it, Kate! You sound like a silly schoolgirl!_

            Beckoning her closer, Tom lowered his voice again and leaned near. "I want to write a book."

             "A book?" she echoed in surprise, then remembered they were whispering. "About what?"

             "Ancient magic. Stupid, isn't it?"

             "No!" Kate exclaimed, never one to smush another's dreams. "What sort of ancient magic?"

             "Really, really old stuff. The sort of things wizards today have forgotten about, like voodoo and African magic. Early religions, you know."

            She nodded like she understood. "What about the curse breakers in Egypt and stuff?"

            Tom made a 'psssh' noise through his teeth and waved his hand, as though waving away the aged hexes found on the pyramids. "Not curse-breaking," he said intensely. "Curse-making."

            Something made her shiver, and she pulled her robes tightly around her tiny frame. "Where will you be going to do this, then?" she asked, trying to subtly direct the conversation. 

            Again he shrugged. "Where ever. What about you?"

             "Brazil," she said, the answer so quick on her tongue that it surprised her.

             "Why? What's in Brazil?"

            Kate shook her head. "I'm not sure. My uncle is ambassador to Brazil, so I'm supposed to go see him as soon as I'm out of here. Maybe he can get me a job in the Ministry, he says."

             "Is that what you want?"

             "I don't know what I want. Not yet, anyway."

            Tom paused. "Make sure you get what you want, Kate. Ruin everyone else if you have to. No one's going to look out for you but you, remember that."

             "Okay," said Kate solemnly. Her answer seemed lacking, but she couldn't think of what else to add except, "I'll try."

            He smiled at her again, and for a moment she felt the slightly awkward conversation had been more than worth the effort. Then he suddenly looked at his watch and jumped from his seat. 

             "Jeez, is that the time? I gotta go, Katie. It's been great talking to you. Good luck on the N.E.W.T. tomorrow." He scooped up his books and, with a wink, hurried away.

             "'Bye!" Kate called after him. Her mind was running overtime, bits of their conversation getting confused with Quippleoneous' Theory for transfiguration. Somewhere in the mix of it all, however, a plan was being born, before he had so much as left the room. He'd called her Katie. The theory was first conceived by Dagin Quippleoneous in 1102. He'd winked at her. The theory states that all matter transfigured….

            There was ancient magic and voodoo and stuff in Brazil, wasn't there?


	2. Chapter Two

This goes for all the chapters and everything hp I write: Harry Potter and other copyrighted stuff isn't mine. All that's mine is the particular arrangement of letters that forms this story.

Enjoy! 

            The next time Kate got the chance to really talk to Tom, there were only two weeks remaining of school. Sure, they'd said hi and made small talk, but she hadn't yet pitched her idea, her Great Plan, to him.

            She tried to treat it casually, but it was awfully difficult to act as though she didn't care if he rejected that which she'd put so much work into. It was on her mind almost as much as he was. When that week of N.E.W.T.s came to a close, she felt as happy and unburdened as she had in ages: the tests were done, Tom obviously didn't mind her company, and she actually knew what to do about it all!

            Working it out in her mind was one thing, but eventually other people needed to be convinced. There was her uncle Roderick, for starters. He proved easy to persuade into doing his part; apparently Brazil wasn't a very popular place in the summer. In turn, he pulled the loose strings at the International Magical Affairs Organization (IMAO), getting rooms and transportation. Now, all there was left was for her to make Tom realize how much he wanted to go….

            After weeks of waiting anxiously, the opportunity finally, finally presented itself. Kate felt as though she was no more than a bundle of nerves, somehow making its way across the Great Hall to the Slytherin table, at the end of which _he_ sat, alone, poring over an archaic-looking leather-bound book. Every so often he remembered the cold toast in front of him and took a halfhearted bite, eyes never leaving the page.

            "Now or never," she repeated to herself. A deep breath, a big smile, and she was ready to steal his attention. "Hey, Tom!"

            "Morning, Katie," said he, not lifting his head. 

            Once again she sat down with him, not formally invited but not somehow rejected, either. The way he called her 'Katie' again, as he (and only he) had begun to do regularly, spurred her on. "What're you reading?"

            "An examination of the possible repercussions of excessive magic on the Muggle world," he replied. 

            There was a moment's silence. Just as Kate was beginning to feel that this wasn't going properly, he cleared his throat and closed the book with a heavy thud. She smiled cautiously, he returned with a grin and a nonchalant, "what's on your mind?"

            "I was thinking," she began, watching his face carefully for a sign to back off, "about where you're going after this."

            "I told you," Tom frowned. "I don't know where. I don't exactly have a family to go home to, as I'm sure you already know."

            She sensed his defensiveness before he even spoke. "I know, I know," she said. Her instinct was to reach over and grasp his arm reassuringly, but she stopped herself just in time, leaving her hand conspicuously isolated in the middle of the table. "I wanted to offer you…that is, the Ministry, really…anyway, if you might be interested in going to Brazil…."

            "Why would I want to go to Brazil?"

            "I'll be there," she said before thinking. _Good job, Kate, that doesn't sound too obvious. Hey, wanna come go to a foreign country just so we can hang out this summer?_ "You know, it's not like you'd be alone, already have a friend and stuff." A nervous laugh escaped her.

            Tom tapped his fingers lightly on the giant, oaken table. "That's right. I forgot."

            Kate seized her opportunity. "Yeah, so, like I said, my Uncle Roderick got me a place to stay there, right? He—he can do the same for you, if you want. It's not a big deal, it's not like Brazil is exactly popular in the summer, being so close to the equator and everything." _Shut up, Kate, shut up! Stop smiling, dammit!_

            "No, I wouldn't guess it is," Tom said calmly, his eyes wandering down to his uneaten toast, then to her hand. She resisted the urge to pull it back, instead, pretended to be inspecting one of her fingernails from afar.

            _Okay, get out of this, while you still can._ "Well, I just wanted to let you know," she said, rising. "This' the address…I'm catching a Portkey at the time and all, there, so um…yeah." The piece of paper was pulled from her robe, then awkwardly passed from her free hand to the one resting on the table. 

            Now he looked at that. She twitched, he met her eyes, and then closed his hand over hers. 

             "Thanks," he said, taking the paper. 

             "No problem," she replied. It felt so funny when he looked at her like that….

             "You'd better be going."

             "Yeah, I've gotta go, erm, talk to Professor…Tinellus, yes. See you in Transfiguration."

             "Yep. 'Bye."

             "URRRRRGH!" Kate shouted inwardly as she turned away. Even then, she could feel his eyes on her back. Her cheeks burned, she knew they must be bright red—had they looked that way when she was talking to him? Frantically she replayed the conversation over in her mind. Was she too eager? Did she really offend him by offering him somewhere to stay? Maybe he wanted his independence, of course, she could see it now: he was a free spirit, didn't want anyone to tie him down….

            _There's one way to know,_ she eventually reasoned out. _He'll either show up or he won't, and then, then you can relax._


	3. Chapter Three

Short, but thou shalt not complain. :) Please.

            The Portkey wasn't the only thing waiting for Kate when she left the Hogwarts Express. Amidst the clatter and cheering of others going home for the summer, her parents and sister stood clustered around the rusty pan, eager to see her off. 

            "Kate!" Carolyn yelled, running over as fast as her little legs would carry her. Kate picked up the squirming 8-year-old, her trunk forgotten.

            "How are you, Carrie?" she cooed.

            "I missed you." Carolyn looked seriously at her sister with wide blue eyes. "So much has happened, Kate. I got a real broom for my birthday and Michael challenged me to a Shuntbumps and I beat him and he was _really_ mad because all his friends were there and he's three years older than me so." She paused for breath. "I can go so fast, Kate!"

            Kate grinned, carrying the child over to their parents. "That's amazing, Carrie."

            "She's been telling that story for a month now," said Mrs. Gibbs in a low voice. A sad smile spread over her face, extending from her mouth all the way to her brown eyes, the same ones that Kate had inherited, which were now brimming with tears. "My little baby, how are you?"

            "Momma," Kate protested halfheartedly. For one thing, there were people around, for another, she wasn't little compared to her mother (who was little taller than Carolyn), but finally, she didn't really care about the first two. "I'm fine, I'm fine."

            Mr. Gibbs hung back. A tall, thin man, it was from him that Kate got her dark blonde hair. His quiet manner suited her, he didn't fawn or cry but merely said, "Ready for the real world, are you," as though it wasn't a question but a statement. Still, she knew her father well enough to know he worried.

            "I'll have a great time, Uncle Roderick'll take care of me," she said.

            "He'd better," said Mr. Gibbs. "I'm not too old to beat my little brother up, you know."

            "He'd have to answer to both of us, if anything happened to my baby…" Mrs. Gibbs trailed off weakly.

            Mr. Gibbs smiled down at his eldest daughter. "I daresay you're ready to go, then?"

            "Actually, I just need to use the ladies' room," said Kate quickly. "Be right out."

            She dashed around the corner and into the bathroom. Her family was so bloody proud of her, and she loved them to pieces, but the last thing she wanted right now was puffy mouse-eyes from crying. A brief check in the mirror--eyes, nose, mouth, all still there--and she braced herself to say good-byes--and see _him_, or so she hoped. The Portkey was leaving in a matter of minutes.

            So it was run back outside, a round of hugs and weeping on Carolyn's part. Mrs. Gibbs put on a brave face for her youngest daughter.

            "Don't worry, Carrie," she consoled. "Kate'll come visit us over the summer, won't she?"

            Kate grabbed the handle of the pan securely. "Of course."

            "But why does she have to leave now?!" Carolyn wailed.

            "Jobs fill up fast," Mr. Gibbs said reasonably. He shook his head at the fit, but by the look in his blue eyes Kate could tell he wasn't happy about her taking off again either. However, all he said was, "Good luck, Kate."

            She nodded in reply, scanning the crowds. Dear goodness, where was he? Hadn't she given him the right time? Maybe he was stuck getting his trunk somewhere--she held on to her own by the handle--maybe he'd come running up at the last minute, calling her name---

            Or maybe he wouldn't come, she realized, not five seconds before she (and the Portkey) disappeared.

            He hadn't come.


	4. Chapter Four

            "Kate!"

            More than slightly dizzy, Kate threw out a hand to steady herself and ended up banging it into a doorjamb. She'd forgotten how annoying traveling by Portkey was.

            _He didn't come._

"Honey? Are you okay?" A man not unlike her father in appearance gazed at Kate with concern. 

            _He didn't come._

            Seizing the wall, Kate came to her senses somewhat. Her mind was still ringing, not so much from her trip but from the surprise—no, the let-down—of Tom just. . .not showing. . . . _No, Kate, snap out of it._

            "Hi, Uncle Roderick," she said warmly.

            "Bit of a trip, eh?" Her uncle grinned. "Welcome to Brazil!" He gestured to the room around then, which was mostly the same as a hotel room. Beige walls, beige carpet, a double bed, a desk and several potted tropical plants surrounded them. On the walls hung brightly painted pictures of birds, who chirruped pleasantly (as well as a large myna bird in the corner, who looked at them and proclaimed, "smells like squid!"). 

            "It's great, thank you so much," Kate said, reveling in the fact that she was to have her own room for the first time in years.

            Uncle Roderick frowned. "You look a little peaky, Kate. Tired? Hey, what happened to your friend?"

            "He didn't come," she sighed, looking down at the floor. Her voice dropped low. "He didn't even show up to say good-bye."

            "Huh! That's odd. Are you worried about him? We could send his parents an owl or something---"

            "No, it's okay," Kate said. For some reason, she didn't want to admit that he hadn't formally accepted her invitation. "Actually, I'd just like to rest for a while, if that's okay---"

            "Sure it is! You have a nice nap or something, I'm on the third floor, room 312, if you need anything. Oh, and don't let my secretary turn you away. She's a pretty mean old witch---but I bet you can take her."

            Kate smiled. "Gotcha. Thanks a bunch, Uncle Roderick."

            "No problem!" he said, and with a jaunty wave, left her alone in her new room.

            Kate promptly flopped on the bed. _Why am I so tired? It's only three in the afternoon. . . . God, why didn't he say if he was going or not?"_

"Well, you did leave it kind of open," that reasonable voice said.

            _Grr, shut up. I'm in no mood to talk to myself._

            "Best fall asleep, then."

            It was only a few minutes before she did.

When Kate woke a couple of hours later, it was with a slight shock, thanks to the myna bird in the painting shrieking, "smells like squid! Smells like squid!"

            "QUIET!" she yelled groggily, fumbling for something to throw at it. She managed to pull of her shoe and hurl it, with no great accuracy (or care, for that matter). 

            She never heard the "thud" that would mean it had landed.

            "Damn, you have tiny feet," Tom Marvolo Riddle said.

            Kate opened her eyes, then sat up in surprise. "Tom! What're you doing here!"

            "I thought I was invited," he said, feigning insult.

            "You were---you are---why didn't you take the Portkey?" she babbled, trying to conceal her delight.

            Tom shrugged, still playing with her shoe. "I had some stuff to take care of. Besides, why didn't you just Apparate?"

            "Oh---that," Kate said. "Well, I---I haven't exactly passed my Apparition test yet, if you must know."

            "But why?"

            "I'm too afraid," she explained, trying not to feel so idiotic. "Terrified, really, that I'll splinch myself and part of me'll go missing or something---"

            The boy laughed out, much to Kate's annoyance and embarrassment. "What? What's so funny?"

            "I'm sorry," he apologized, "I just never thought of that---here, have your shoe---but really, you must admit it's rather funny---"

            "I don't have to admit anything," she snapped.

            Tom looked taken aback at her waspish tone. "I didn't mean to offend you, Katie," he said, quickly becoming serious. He clasped one of her hands in both of his. "I'm sorry."

            _There goes all my righteous anger, dammit,_ Kate thought. She looked at his hands. They were nice hands, strong, with long fingers. You could tell a lot about a person by their hands.

            "I know," Tom said, straightening up. "You can let me make up for it. I'll take you out to dinner. I know this great restaurant just down the street---"

            Despite herself, now Kate laughed. "Sure you do. Spend a lot of time in Brazil, do you?"

            "No, really," he said. "The reason---well, one of the reasons---I was late was I had to go see this old wizard here about teaching me, and while I was there I said, 'by the way, do you know somewhere I could take a beautiful girl to dinner?' and he told me about this place. Come with me, Katie?"

            There was a pause, but Kate's mind was already more than decided. _Like I'm going to say no? He called you beautiful, did you catch that? What are you waiting for?! Gooo!_

            "Of course," she said, standing up. "Of course I'll come."


	5. Chapter Five

            The path that Tom Riddle walked was obviously not a popular one. Vines, shrubs and other sorts of undergrowth crowded it on either side, sometimes stretching arms across it so he would have to blast the way clear with his wand. He'd been walking for nearly an hour now. His clothes were covered in thorns, he'd stepped in more than a few swampy places, his hands and face were crisscrossed with scratches that bled and attracted the atrocious insects who inhabited the Brazilian rainforest. Rain clouds gathered over his head, sinking heavily. He promised himself he'd Apparate next time, as soon as he knew exactly where he was going. If he came again, that is.

            As Tom squelch-squelched along, he became aware of someone whistling cheerfully. He listened for a moment before realizing that _he_ was the one doing so. The thought surprised him. What suddenly begetted this blatant act of happiness, he wasn't exactly sure, but he did know he was more content than he had been in a long time. He had freedom, a place to stay, and a future. 

            Oh yeah, and Katie.

            Living in the same building, just two apartments away, they saw each other daily without fail. He had made a point to take her out to lunch or dinner every few days ever since their arrival three weeks ago. After all, it was only polite, seeing as she'd gotten him his home. Maybe (but it was only a maybe), he enjoyed her company. She certainly wasn't as annoying as some people. Still, she created a problem for Tom---Katie wasn't part of the plan.

            He assured himself that he could deal with the issue when the time came. For now, he had to focus on what was happening---the rain had begun to fall, and the path was coming to an end.

            In a matter of feet, the path gave way to a clearing. A magical blue fire burned in a pit, undaunted by the fat drops of water coming from the sky. On one side of it, turning what looked to be a large rat on a spit, crouched a bedraggled figure Tom knew only so well.

            "I found you," he said, somewhat exhausted.

            "So Tom did," said the voice like nails on a chalkboard. It was difficult to believe it belonged to a human, once a simple wizard in a tribe of Brazilian natives. His age showed in every crease and sag of his dark brown skin, years piled upon years, dirt piled upon dirt. Without the aid of his experimental magic, he would have died over a hundred years ago. Thanks to magic, he lived a half-life, barely existing from one day to the next, in Tom's eyes, a pitiful example of time wasted.

            Tom didn't feel proud or expect praise, he was too smart for that. He'd done the task, no worse and no better than necessary. "Do you think this is isolated enough?"

            The wizard chuckled and tore a piece of meat from the rat. He devoured it, then another chunk, and didn't reply until the entire rodent was gone and he had licked the spit clean. Tom waited impatiently. 

            "Isolated enough, enough for Tom," the wizard repeated. "Enough, enough, enough---"

            His tolerance wearing thin, Tom interrupted his mentor. "Wygsyact, as quaint as your irrational ramblings are, we have work to do. The Sturgeon Moon is only five weeks away, and I am _not_ waiting until next year to get what is rightfully mine."

            "Impatience!" Wygsyact exclaimed gleefully. He threw back his head in exalted laughter. Tom sighed and waited for him to finish.

            "When we are done," said Wygsyact, now sensible, "Tom will always have time. Always. Satisfaction guaranteed!" Again he cracked up at his own joke.

            It was all Tom could do not to strangle him on the spot and throw him into his own magical fire. Certainly no one would notice, he'd been living in hiding for so long. But no, Wygsyact was important; in his inane mind rested the information Tom needed, or at least, Tom hoped it was still there. 

            Finally his laughter ceased. "All right, Tommy, how many are we talking here?"

            It was these lapses of sanity Tom came for, when Wygsyact was all business. If he had done anything in his hundred plus years, he had developed a strong sense for when someone was trying to cheat him.

            "At least five," Tom said. 

            "Jeez, you're getting greedy, Riddle," the old wizard said. "I can get you two. Two is plenty."

            Tom glared at him, locking their eyes. "I want five."

            "Your little tricks are unnecessary, Tom---"

            "So are yours. Stop saying my name, Wygsyact."

            "Stop looking at me, Tom Marvolo Riddle."

            There was a tense pause.

            "Five."

            "Two."

            "I'll get the other three myself."

            Wygsyact closed his white eyes, laughing again. "How do you propose to do that? You live with the Ministry of Magic, Tom, they'd be on you like---like white on rice."

            Irritated, Tom stood up. "I'll do it. You just get ready for five."

            "Five, five, five it is." 

            "Yes," Tom said defiantly. "You don't know what I can get away with, Wygsyact."

            "Maybe I don't want to know, Tom," said the ancient wizard.

            _Know your enemy,_ Tom thought, _better than you know yourself._ As though he could hear him, Wygsyact stiffened.

            Feeling he had won, Tom Apparated back to his home.


	6. Chapter Six

Here we go, chapter six. 

Y'all're gonna kill me fer the endin', but if yeh review a bunch I jest migh' be encouraged ter hurry wi' seven, if yeh know what I mean. ;) 

Yes, that was me talking like Hagrid. Don't know why. Don't ask questions. Just read.

Chapter 6

            "'Morning!" Kate called cheerfully. From down the hall, Tom waved.

            _Maybe it's just me, but he keeps getting more handsome every day,_ she thought to herself with a sigh. Him---beautiful, intelligent Tom---actively spending time with _her?_ It was one of those things that you have to keep reminding yourself of, because it doesn't seem real, doesn't seem like it actually happened. But there he was, smiling and walking her to the lift, and she had to say to herself, _yes, Kate, this is real._

            The only thing that bothered her was, well, he didn't seem to be much of a romantic, not that most boys were. Even that was okay, but it made her worry. When they were going out to lunch or something, that hellishly annoying negative side would start to say, "you realize, he probably just thinks of you as a friend. Maybe even a little sister, and he's got to watch out for you. That's why he only takes you out for meals, that's why he never comes over, that's why he hasn't kissed you. Really, Kate, don't get your hopes up."

            _I can't help it,_ she argued. _My hopes get themselves up. It's not my fault if I get my heart broken…but that won't happen, you hear me? Won't!_

            "Sleep well?" Tom asked when she yawned hugely. They stepped into the lift and he pulled shut the wrought-iron curtain. 

            "Damn bird kept me up all night," she said, rubbing her eyes. "I've tried putting a blanket over his picture, but that just seems to scare him."

            Tom chuckled. "My poor Katie."

            "Are you doing anything for lunch today?" Kate asked, before her nerves could get the better of her. "It'll be my treat this time."

            "Sorry," Tom said, shaking his head. "I've got a lot to do for Professor Wyggy today. He wants me to find some genealogy records at the Russian Ministerial Connection. The place is a disaster, it could take all day."

            "Oh," Kate said dejectedly. The lift reached the second floor, where her office was as assistant to the Tradeswizards Office. "Okay, then. I'll just see you later, I guess."

            "Yup. 'Bye!"

            She waved halfheartedly, watching Tom sink into the ground. 

            "Miss Gibbs!" called one of her bosses, a fat, balding man barely taller than her. Mr. Deidie was less than a gentleman, but all right, as long as he didn't come to work intoxicated (which he was wont to do once or twice a week). "Do you have those agreements of disclosure copied?"

            "Right here, sir," she replied, pulling them out of one of the many folders she carried.

            He flipped through them quickly. "Excellent, excellent. I've got the Brazilian Secretary of Commerce coming in at eleven, apparently there's been some nasty egg-smuggling going on, thirteen illegal dragons in the rainforest in the last month! Of course, people are trying to say they're natives, but really, a Swedish Short-Snout isn't what you might call local, unless it was on vacation for some warm weather, eh?" He laughed heartily.

            Kate grinned. "No more local than a Chinese Fireball."

            "Exactly!" He chuckled. "You're a funny one, Miss Gibbs. Now scoot, we've all got work to do." He waggled his hands at her. "Go on, scoot!"

            The morning flew by in a whirl of owls and documents and Floo-powder conversations with different officials. By the time her lunch break came around, Kate was exhausted. She was sort of glad Tom hadn't been able to go to lunch with her, because of a certain snowy owl, who had decided to nest in her hair while she wrote the reply to his letter. She managed to brush it out as she walked down the street to her favorite café.

            A massive building on the edge of the street caught her attention. Not because of its size---every other building on Whirl-A-Gig Avenue was an embassy, and therefore huge (with the exception of Canada's, which was run out of a tumbledown old greenhouse for some reason). The sign outside read Russian Ministerial Connection. Below that, in smaller wording: House of Records, floor B-13, Please Beware of the Pogrebin.

            _Would it be too forward to stop in and say hello? _Kate asked herself. _It's not like we're strangers, but he did say he was busy. . .too busy for lunch, but not necessarily too busy for a visit. I could bring him a biscuit. . .yes, that's what I'll do. . . ._

            After a quick stop in the café to buy a tin of cookies, Kate headed off down the street. It was crowded at this time of day, not so different from Diagon Alley back in England, except there were many more brightly-dressed people about. The Russian Ministerial Connection had a secondary entrance for those wanting to visit their sub-floors. The first room behind the large mahogany door was spacious and well-lit, but as Kate descended the stairs between floors B-1 and B-13 everything grew dim. The walls pressed in. Torches were extinguished.

            _God, what a desolate place,_ she thought. _What a bad idea this was. . .I shouldn't have come. . . ._

            "Pogrebin!" she exclaimed, spinning around to face the small gray creature in her shadow. "You little. . . . _Stupefy!_"

            The pogrebin squeaked and was sent rolling backwards a few feet.

            "I can depress myself, thank you," Kate said, tucking her wand away.

            A few more flights of stairs later, and she found herself facing a worn little door that read, in peeling letters, _House of Records._ She pushed it open.

            Another staircase waited, much larger than the previous ones. It lead down from the door into a cavernous room, which was positively bursting with filing cabinets. Thousands upon thousands, she guessed, they reached to the top of the ceiling (which was easily thirty feet). Ten-foot-high ladders waited on sliders at the beginning of each row, three each, so someone could reach the very top cabinet if they wanted to. The room glowed faintly with the light reflected off of all the varnished wood.

            "Oh, great," Kate sighed. For one thing, she didn't know how she was supposed to find Tom in all this, and for another, the place seemed positively empty. Her footsteps echoed as she walked timidly to the nearest row of cabinets.

            _Well, the worst they can do is throw me out,_ she reasoned, before bellowing, "TOM!"

            "OY!" came a reply. She followed it eagerly a couple of rows down.

            "If it's not Miss Katie Gibbs!" Tom said. He stood in the middle of one of the second-level ladders, holding a large file.

            "This place is huge!" Kate exclaimed. _You're a right master of the obvious, Kate._

"Tell me about it. I've been searching all day for this stupid stuff," Tom said. Putting one foot on either side of the ladder, he slid to the bottom, then rolled over to a first-level ladder and did the same. "What have you got there?"

            She held out the tin. "I thought I'd bring you a snack."

            He paused and looked at her. "You're amazing, Katie." Kate felt herself blush.

            "You would never guess all this' underground," she said, to change the subject.

            "Well, it's not," said Tom, munching a few of the cookies. "Just looks like it. Every magical country had at least one entrance to this place. Happens that Brazil's is in Russia's basement."

            Kate nodded. She was still curious, but didn't feel like pressing him for information, so she let their conversation drift to small talk.

            "Ahh, that hit the spot." Tom grinned and rubbed his stomach. "I've got to get back to work."

            "Me too," said Kate, glancing at her watch. She still had half an hour.

            He grasped her hand and gave it a firm shake. "See you later?"

            "See you," she replied. He climbed back on the ladders, and she turned back to the stairs.

            _What the heck was that? A handshake and 'see you later?'_ she demanded as she trudged back up the steps. It seemed longer now that she wasn't full of nervous excitement. In fact, she was feeling so low that more than once she checked to make sure there wasn't another Pogrebin following her. There never was.

            Because she still had so much time to kill, Kate decided to poke around the Ministerial Connection, which boasted a historic library on its ground floor. A young woman with long, shiny brown hair showed her the way. Maybe it was just her four-inch-heels, but this woman made Kate feel small (and therefore, worse).

            Idly she fingered the spines of all the old books. Her mind was as far as possible from the goblin rebellions and witch-hunts featured there. She spent the rest of her lunch break thinking, _what did he mean by that? Was he trying to tell me he just thinks of me as a friend? Should I keep trying? Should I give up? For goodness' sake, shaking hands is what you do with someone you just met, not someone you---you---_

            Whatever direction Kate's thoughts had, they lost at that moment. Because at that very second, who should enter by the main door, but Tom? She watched in sorrow as he crossed the busy lobby purposefully, and began chatting up the tall woman. No, there was no doubting it, he was talking animatedly, exaggeratedly waving his was as though to illustrate a point. The woman laughed and played with her hair. After a few minutes they left together, hand in hand.

            Kate didn't even bother to think about what she was going to do. She knew it was stupid, probably the wrong choice. Either way, she knew she was going to follow them, and that is exactly what she did.

            "Damn the rainforest," Kate muttered. "Damn the bugs. Damn the vines, damn the roots. . . ."

            The longer Kate walked, the more angry she became. This was her first trip into the rainforest, but nothing was beautiful or interesting, it all existed only to irritate her. Besides, it'd been over an hour of walking, and she was running out of things to damn.

            Ahead about ten yards walked Tom and the woman. They hadn't spoken the entire time, but their footfalls made so much noise that Kate had no fear of them noticing her.

            "You were wondering, and there's your proof," said her negative side. "She's got to be at least 25. He could pass for a 25-year-old any time he wanted to. People see you do magic and say, 'aren't you breaking the Decree for Underage Wizardry?' It's not his fault he wants a woman, not a little girl."

            Kate sank down on a log to rest. That pesky voice was right. And now she would be two hours late back to work. . .she should just start back now, before anyone found out how much of a fool she'd made out of herself. . . .

            In a moment she realized she was crying. Big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks, leaving salty trails behind. She didn't try to stop, in fact, it felt oddly good to cry. To just left all her pains go in little pearly beads. . . .

            _If Tom doesn't like me, so be it. I've gotten this far without him. I can sure as hell keep going. _She stood up and wiped her eyes, feeling stronger, thanks to her new affirmation. _No more cynicism, _she told herself upon realizing her feet were soaked. She was standing in a puddle.

            A very large puddle.

            Which seemed to be looking up at her. 

            Kate leaned a closer. Yes, those were definitely eyes, but what were they attached to? A head, a reptilian head---she now began to believe it was dead, it hadn't blinked or moved a smidge---its body must be under that twisted mass of green and black. . . .

            Unless it was that twisted mass of green and black. . . .

            "Oh, God."

            She gave a start, then tried to move more slowly. What was it about snakes? Were they the sort where if you held still, they couldn't see you? Or was it better to put as much distance between you and them as possible? Kate wouldn't have minded a yard, she was practically stepping on it as she was. . . .

            The snake blinked. It was very much alive. And very much three times her size.

            Kate gave up being still. She reached for her wand.

            With an impossible amount of force, the snake hurtled itself up at her, snapping its jaws. She shouted the first spell that came to mind. "_Stupefy!_" 

            For one terrible second the snake hovered above her, dazed. 

            Then it fell.

            Then everything began to happen rapidly. She tumbled backwards---it was on her shoulders---she banged her elbow, and her wand flew out of reach---the snake was calm, it knew what to do---besides, it was hungry---

            Kate felt the slick, muscular coils sliding around her neck and middle. It was impossible to stand, all of its weight was on her upper body, pinning her down. There was nothing to do but struggle. She gave it her best, beating her weak fists against its scaly skin, rolling side-to-side, anything to make its job of killing her more difficult. She screamed, one of those screams you just can't put into letters: high, shrill, pulse-stopping.

_            NO! I am NOT going to die like this! I am NOT going to be food for some stupid WORM!_

            She screamed again and again, but after each time she found it harder to inhale. White spots danced in her eyes, as darkness grew around their corners. She couldn't feel her arms. Couldn't feel anything. All she could do was hear---hear the calls of the birds, the rustle of leaves, the drip, drip of water from the snake as it hissed. . . .

            The world seemed to be moving slowly, turning, Kate could feel it now. _If this is dying. . .it hurts like hell,_ she thought. Her head felt like it was exploding, everything was too bright, she willfully closed her eyes. . . .

            _You win._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I promise that's not the end of the story!!! I've got at least 3 more chapters to write before I can resolve everything. :)

Please review. See, I asked nicely. That means you have to. ^_~


	7. Chapter Seven

I love yeh, reviewers!

Oh yeah, before I forget---FLUFF WARNING: Rather fluffy scene at the end. If you like that sort of thing, enjoy it, cuz it'll probably be the only one. If you don't, when you get to it you can just skip to that lovely "submit review" button at the bottom. :) I hope you're all getting prepared for a sad ending, we're just a few chapters away. . . .

One of the Three

            The sun was setting. True, the sun couldn't actually be seen from the path, but the light fell at a slant: golden, flickering through the leaves, like a flame in danger of going out.

            He was scared. He wasn't sure why. His lone footsteps fell, even and rhythmic, growing more rapid as the light dimmed. If he could only get out of there before the light was gone, he decided, everything would be alright. So he ran faster. Because everything had to be alright.

            He'd killed the snake, of course. Broken its flexible spine with one crack. That didn't bother him. Then he'd pulled her away, and felt how cold she was, and saw the pallor of her skin, and then he started being scared.

            Wygsyact had laughed. Downright gleeful, he had dragged away the anaconda's body, muttering something about "fresh meat", leaving Tom with the dying girl. That suited Tom just fine. He sent shocks through her body to start her pulse again, and then levitated her in front of him. Now he ran.

            The forest came to an end, and a few minutes later, Whirl-A-Gig Avenue came into sight. He decided holding would be less conspicuous than hovering, so he took a moment to gather her in his arms before running again. She was so cold.

            Rhombus Street ran parallel to Whirl-A-Gig, though hardly anyone used it except the homeless and maintenance crews. It was nearly empty now, dark and narrow, lying behind all the magnificent buildings. Tom took this road, took it to the English Embassy. He prayed no one they knew would see them. He didn't want to explain---didn't think he could if he tried.

            Back door, stairs instead of the popular lifts, up to the fifth floor. The keys were in her pocket.

            He gently set her down on the unmade bed, adrenaline ebbing. Placing his fingers on her neck, he decided her pulse was growing stronger. A small bit of relief.

            "Smells?" said the myna bird quizzically. "Smells? Smells?"

            "Shh," Tom said. 

            For once the bird listened, eyes focused on Kate's body intently. Tom sat down in a chair by the window. He began to wait.

*     *     *

Slowly, laboriously, Kate unclosed her eyes. The darkness that greeted her was so deep, so complete, that she had all but decided she was dead, when an all-too-familiar voice began to cry, "Smells like squid!"

            She was alive, and her face was smushed in a pillow.

            _A dream, then. No wonder that room was so huge. . .and that means I didn't really see Tom with that woman! Yess!_

            "Katie?"

            _Huh?_

            She felt the weight of him sitting on the bed, then his hand on her shoulder. "Katie. . ."

            _Tommy. . _.she imagined herself replying, with a laugh.

            "Please wake up," he was whispering in her ear. There was a sense of urgency in his tone. "Please. . ."

            "Since you asked nicely," she mumbled, though the words weren't audible through the pillow. She rolled over, wincing---her back hurt something horrible, her ribs felt bruised.

            "Katie!" Tom exclaimed. 

            "Tom!" Kate replied, confused. Before she could make sense of what was happening, he'd pressed his lips to hers. 

            After a moment he pulled back, smiling, eyes dancing. "God, I was so. . .what made you go there, Katie? Why?"

            "Me? I was following _you!_"

            "What?" He hesitated, furrowing his brow. "Why would you follow me?"

            _Arrrrrrrghhhhhhh!_ Kate inwardly groaned. The woman had been real, then. _Honesty is the best policy, but lying is a better defense. . .this is just great, though. He's going to think I'm a moron, and I just got him to kiss me! HE KISSED ME!_

"Katie?" Tom was searching her eyes. "Why?"

            "I. . . ." She sighed, looked down, at the ceiling, then at him again. "Who was that woman?"

            "What woman?" 

            "The one with the long brown hair you were holding hands with!" she blurted out.

            "Who---Ms. Murgen?"

            "I don't know her name," Kate said huffily. 

            Tom relaxed his posture in relief. "Katie, she's the niece of my teacher. I was taking her to see him for lunch."

            "In the middle of the rainforest?"

            He nodded. "That's where he lives. A bit of a hermit, really, but he's very knowledgeable. Come with me tomorrow, if you don't believe me."

            Kate considered it for half a second, before she decided she would rather play catch with a Bludger than go into the rainforest again anytime soon. "Promise me you're telling the truth?" She looked into his eyes. People looked away when they were lying, she'd heard.

            Tom didn't so much as blink. "Promise."

            _Deja vue, _Katie thought, as he held her hands. The first night he'd come, she'd woken up to him being there, she'd been angry, he'd somehow stopped it, it was all the same.

            Except, well, he hadn't kissed her then.

            _Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me,_ her mind sing-songed. But they just gazed into each others' eyes, for the longest time, it seemed. Eventually something occurred to her.

            "You saved me," she said suddenly.

            He shrugged, looking pleased with himself. "Well, yeah."

            She paused. How do you thank someone for saving your life? "Well, thanks."

            "Anytime."

            A long, awkward silence ensued. Kate found herself looking at their hands nervously. _What, am I supposed to say something, now? I already said thanks. . .what else is there to say? What time is it? God, I'm going to be in so much trouble at work. . .at least I'm not dead though, right? He kissed me. Does he want to kiss me again? Should I be looking up at him right now?_ Reluctantly, she glanced up through her fringe. _I love his hair. . . ._

            Tom grinned. "Get some rest, pretty girl."

            "You too," she said. Not exactly scintillating. "Well, not that you're a girl, but---"

            He laughed and stood up. "Night, Katie."

            With that, he left.


	8. Chapter Eight

Whoo-hoo! Okie, if you know me on aim, you may have noticed that for the last three days I've been away, and my message has merely been, "I have writer's block". So I'd like to say, in my own defense, that this writer's block is to be held culpable for the couple of pieces of crap I turned out in those few days…. Most notably _Wish on Sirius_, which no one, not even my beta seemed to like. Grr, y'know? But anyway, the block has been demolished (thanks to heavy amounts of dynamite and lots of new-age music), I present, for your enjoyment…chapter eight! Just approximately 2 chapters and the epilogue (the last of which I have already written) to go!

*     *     *

                Kate Gibbs was by no means a dumb girl when it came to boys. Years of practical experience and observation had lead her to several conclusions concerning relationships. She outlined them sometimes, when she was particularly stuck on what to do. Three days after Tom kissed her, she was in a veritable pit of quicksand-like confusion. The more she tried to work it out, the more she struggled, the deeper she sank. 

                _We haven't really talked…why hasn't he kissed me again? I see him in the halls, say hello like normal…never mentions it…does he regret kissing me? Should I have kissed him back or something, to let him know it was okay? Probably, that's it, I didn't respond right…._

                "Bloody hell," Kate muttered as she came out of another wondering daydream. She was supposed to be summarizing the new immigration standards proposal with her Kopy-Kwill, which copied whatever she wrote onto all the underlying pieces of paper. In mid sentence the proposal ended, and had been (subconsciously) covered with things like "I love Tom Marvolo Riddle" and "Mrs. Katie Riddle", with plenty of hearts for effect.

                A sigh of frustration escaped her as she crumpled the lot of them up and chucked the inky mess at the waste bin. This had always been her problem in school, too. Whenever she was distracted, her concentration went straight out the window.

                The clock chimed five. Mr. Deidie came out of his office, donning a luridly green newsboy cap. 

                "Best be gettin' home, Miss Gibbs," he said, locking the door.

                "I've just got to finish these proposals," Kate replied. She stayed seated at her desk, trying to determine just how long it would take and whether or not she should tell Uncle Roderick she'd be late for dinner.

                "Ah, yeah," said Mr. Deidie. "We need those for tomorrow's meeting, don't we?"

                Kate smiled, she appreciated his passive way of reminding her they had to be done on time. "They'll be in your mail slot when you come in in the morning."

                He tipped his hat to her as he backed out the door. "Evening, Kate."

                "Have a nice night!" she called after him.

                The proposals took longer than expected. At six o'clock, knowing she wouldn't be done in time to join her uncle for dinner, she sent a memo up to his apartment on the seventh floor. At seven o'clock, she began singing the words of the proposals to the tune of "Jingle Bells", just to keep her mind focused. At eight o'clock, just as she was packing up, a face appeared outside the door.

                "Tom!" Kate exclaimed, doing a poor job of hiding her excitement. "How are you?"

                "Just fine, Katie Gibbs," Tom said. He put one arm above her on the doorjamb and leaned in for a kiss. She couldn't help smiling, her heart felt as though it was doing a cheerleading routine in her chest, knocking the air out of her lungs. _Haha! Yesss!_

                "Your uncle said you were still at work," explained Tom, taking her hand and leading her down the hall. Kate could barely walk straight, let alone reply. He asked her questions about her day, and she could only nod and smile for answers, because whenever he looked at her with those big dark eyes she was totally, completely lost….

                "Hello in there…snap out of it, Katie…."

                She blinked, and with a jerk, reentered reality. Her cheeks turned hot and red. "Sorry."

                Tom took her out for dinner again. Somewhere between the appetizer and main course, Kate found her mind and the two began to talk like old friends. She realized, later, she'd basically poured her soul out to him, telling him everything---from how she cried when she learned that her baby doll wouldn't really grow up---to how her little sister nearly died when she tried to follow Kate climbing a tree---to the day she got accepted to Hogwarts---to that night in the library, which seemed so very long ago.

                He took in every word, paying such close attention. He nodded at all the right times and asked the right questions and laughed only at the things that were funny. And when she was done, he told her a much less heartwarming tale.

                "My mother died," Tom began, toying with his napkin, "when I was born."

                Kate gasped. "I'm so sorry…."

                He shrugged. "Don't be. I didn't know her. My father left when he found out she was a witch and I ended up in the orphanage." She reached across the table to hold his hand. He merely shrugged again and continued his story of life at the orphanage, which consisted of regular crummy food and plenty of Muggle-style cleaning. "I was so glad to get my Hogwarts letter…you wouldn't believe it…."

                "I never knew," Kate whispered, though she wasn't sure why. Yes, she'd known he was an orphan or something to that effect, he'd made that clear, but it was the details that broke her heart.

                "I never told anyone." 

                The rest of their meal was finished in silence, though neither attempted to use the hand which held the other's.

*     *     *

                "Okay! Let's begin!" said the other side of Kate, the one she consistently wished would shut up. Whether it was reasonable or negative, she hadn't figured out, but one this was sure---it was annoying like you wouldn't believe.

                "What is the number one way to scare off your boyfriend?" the voice said, entirely too perky for this late at night.

                _Say 'I love you' too soon, _Kate thought begrudgingly.

                "Good, good! And what did you do when he walked you to your door?"

                _Kissed him._

"Uh-uh, that's not all…."

                Kate scowled and looked up at her ceiling. "Why the hell did I say that?!"

                _It wasn't my fault. Did you see how he kissed me? Knocked me off my feet, he did. It was like one of those kisses from the movies. It was insane. _

                "Still," the voice persisted, though it was losing its force. "That was incredibly stupid…."

                _Isn't honesty the basis of all good relationships?_

                "Are you saying you think you really _do_ love him?"

                Kate didn't answer herself.

                "Love him like you love Carrie? That deep-down love, like you don't want anything bad to ever, ever happen to them, not just lust and off-your-feet-knocking-kisses?"

                Things were so quiet. She could feel her heartbeat in her chest.

                _Yeah. I think so._

                "That's so---so moronic---"

                _You're just mad because he said it back,_ she declared. _Because he loves me, and for once, everything is perfect, and for once, you can't make me feel bad like you always do._

The trouble of trying to decide if that side of her was reasonable or negative ended. For not only did Kate realize it was her worst critic, but it shut up.

                He'd said, "I love you, Katie."

                He loved her.

                _He loves me._

*     *     *

Awww, fluff be rampant. I'm starting to feel pretty unhappy about how…well, er, _happy_ this fic seems. (_Seems_ being the important word here.) It's kinda sweet, though, Tom in love with someone….dammit! No, must not let self succumb to the fluff bunnies that are plaguing my fic…. Oh yes, and please review, let me know if you vomited…. lol ;) 


	9. Chapter Nine

I apologize for the shortness of this chapter. :) My b, but I want to leave you guys with a nice, long one for the final chapter…which shall be my next upload to this fic, I believe. I've really gotten to like Katie, it hurts me to end this story, but I've discovered I also very much like Katie Bell…lol! If ya'll have any plot ideas feel free to send them along…in the meantime, enjoy….

Me

            The magical blue fire flickered vibrantly in the dark clearing. Tom poked it with his wand, which emitted silver sparks---it was just the right temperature. He levitated the stone cauldron over the flames.

            "You are quiet tonight, Tom," said Wygsyact. He sat near his protégé, wrapping himself up in the skin of the anaconda. "Tell me why."

            Tom stared into the flames sullenly. "I'm thinking. Don't interrupt me when I'm thinking."

            Wygsyact made sort of a '_tsk, tsk_' sound. "You are never happy, Tom, always sad sad saddy sad sad. Morose. Gloomy. Depress---"

            "Shut it."

            "Or angry."

            "I said, shut it."

            "_Tsk, tsk_."

            Tom felt as though his mind was a very complex place, one that took lots of searching through to find any answers. Now, as he stirred the simmering potion, he tried to determine just why his thoughts kept going back to Katie. It was like a shot of firewhiskey going through his system every time her picture arose in his mind. She loved him. He'd said he loved her. And the disturbing part was, he eventually realized, that he might have been telling the truth.

            "Well, you've got your five, Tom," said Wygsyact in a lighthearted tone.

            Pulled from his thoughts, Tom jerked. "What?"

            "…that girl, eh?"

            "What girl?"

            Wygsyact stroked his snakeskin.

            "Oh." Tom felt the heat in his veins again. "I gave her a memory charm. She'll be okay."

            "She is going to create problems, Tom, especially if you lie to your teacher."

            The two locked eyes for a moment. "Who said I was lying."

            Wygsyact returned to petting his snakeskin. The silence resumed, complete save for the bubble of potion and bird calls and insect noises of the rainforest. Tom forced his mind away from Katie, instead he concentrated on finishing the whiteish potion. Little by little, he added the powder of a crumpled snorknack liver. Had to pay attention now. Too much would be just as bad as too little…he didn't like to think on what would happen if his hand should slip….

            "Stop!" Wygsyact cried. He leaned over the cauldron and inhaled the vapors. "Ahhh…beautiful…"

            Careful as to not spill a drop, Tom ladled the now bright-white liquid into a silver mug. He sniffed it himself---it did smell quite nice. Somewhat intoxicating, like perfume mixed with power and liquor. Sweet.

            "Bottoms up!" said Wygsyact happily. "Last drink! Enjoy it, boy, there are no more lovely as the last before the Night…I'm thirsty, Tom…." Suddenly he shoved his head into the cauldron, licking the sides clean, with lots of loud slurping noises.

            Tom hesitated, watching him. He made a silent prayer to whatever sort of God there might be (these thoughts didn't exactly bother him, because as we know, he had no intention of dying) that he not end up as crazy as the mad, crouching little man before him. Then he drained the mug.

            The first drink had been harsh. It scorched his tongue and made him want to spit it out immediately, but he swallowed it all. The second was a little less painful, a little more enjoyable, as was the third and the fourth. After each drink he came to look forward to the inexplicable feeling of force that started in his stomach and flowed through him with his blood, growing daily, building upon itself. Now it was his final drink, cool and refreshing as a glass of cold pure water on a hot, dry day. The chill of strength sped through him. 

            Wygsyact sighed and emerged from the cauldron. "No more lovely as the last…."

            "Tomorrow is the Night," Tom said. With this new feeling of power grew his confidence and determination.

            "Good thing, too," said Wygsyact. "They are starting to complain. I told you two was enough, but nooooo, spoiled widdle Tommykins wanted FIVE…."

            "You do realize that if I didn't need you, I'd kill you."

            "You do realize that the only reason I provoke you is because you need me, Tom."

            That night ended like many and most of their meetings. Neither could wait for their temporary partnership to be over, seeing as how they could barely stand one another. After a reaffirmation of how much one disliked the other, Tom dropped the mug and stood up, dusting off his robes.

            "Tomorrow at sunset," he said, by way of a farewell. Wygsyact did not reply.

            Tom Apparated home. There was a memo waiting for him from Katie, suggesting they do something tomorrow. 

            There was no firewhiskey in his veins.

            He scrawled a reply, "can't tomorrow talk to you after work," and sent the memo back to her. She would get it when she woke up, and if she didn't, well, that wasn't his problem.


	10. Chapter Nine Point SeventyFive

Ch. 9 3/4 

This is a lovely song my beta recommended to me. She said it was the "perfect song for pasta"…which is a long inside joke but the gist of it is, it's a good match for this story. I highly encourage you to download it, Pretty Girl (The Way) by Sugarcult…it would have been nice to do a songfic to it but I'm already writing a whole long fic so…yeah. Still working on the final chapter. Enjoy this for now. :)
    
    _pretty girl is suffering while he confesses everything._
    
    _pretty soon she'll figure out what his intentions were about._
    
    _and that's what you get for falling again;_
    
    _you can never get him out of your head._
    
    _and that's what you get for falling again;_
    
    _you can never get him out of your head._
    
    _it's the way that he makes you feel._
    
    _it's the way that he kisses you._
    
    _it's the way that he makes you fall in love._
    
    _she's beautiful as usual with bruises on her ego and_
    
    _her killer instinct tells her to be aware of evil men._
    
    _and that's what you get for falling again;_
    
    _you can never get him out of your head._
    
    _and that's what you get for falling again;_
    
    _you can never get him out of your head._
    
    _it's the way that he makes you feel._
    
    _it's the way that he kisses you._
    
    _it's the way that he makes you fall in love. _
    
    _it's the way that he makes you feel._
    
    _it's the way that he kisses you._
    
    _it's the way that he makes you fall in love....love...._
    
    _pretty girl... _
    
    _pretty girl..._
    
    _pretty girl is suffering while he confesses everything._
    
    _pretty soon she'll figure out: you can never get him out of your head._
    
    _it's the way that he makes you cry._
    
    _it's the way that he's in your mind._
    
    _it's the way that he makes you fall in love._
    
    _it's the way that he makes you feel._
    
    _it's the way that he kisses you._
    
    _it's the way that he makes you fall in love...love...._

~*~

I don't own any part of this song at all. 


	11. Chapter Ten

This is the final chapter. Epilogue coming in a few minutes. Please, please, please review. Don't make me beg? ;)

Ch. 10

            Kate read the memo twice through before crumpling it in her hand. 

            _Maybe there's something bothering him,_ she hoped, though that seemed sort of mean. _Something that's not me, of course._

            The day passed more quietly than most. To her combined relief and disappointment, she did not see Tom that morning. Work was slow, Mr. Diedei was in a meeting, so Kate busied herself writing a letter to her parents and sister, who were already pestering her to come home for a visit. After mailing the letter at lunchtime, she traipsed over to her uncle's office to say hello.

            Ms. Vinnlespeck was a thin woman, easily more than sixty, who seemed to derive great pleasure from interrogating anyone who passed by her desk. Kate had had the misfortune of meeting her on more than one occasion. As of late she merely received a disapproving glare and a quick wave to tell her she might go in; today, however, the desk was empty. Kate assumed the secretary had gone off for lunch and proceeded into her uncle's office.

            "Did you know your father used to sleepwalk?" said Uncle Roderick when his niece entered. 

            "I don't think you've told me that one," Kate replied, smiling. She made herself comfortable in a large leather chair, setting her sandwich on her lap. 

            Her uncle shook his head and pulled his own lunch out of a drawer. "It was my third year at Hogwarts, his fifth, he'd been studying for O.W.L.s so much and wound up falling asleep in the common room while we poked him with our quills when…."

            The lunch hour passed quickly. Kate thoroughly enjoyed Uncle Roderick's stories about when he and her father were young, they did many things and got into a number of embarrassing situations, with which she intended to annoy her father at the earliest convenience. She lingered with her uncle, unwilling to go back to work.

            "…of course, he didn't want to admit that we'd tricked him, so he ended up taking all the blame! Had to serve detention and everything…I still dunno if I believe him about what he had to do for detention, exactly, seemed to be something about feeding the giant squid or the like…."

            "Oh, what did he say happened?" Kate asked eagerly.

            Uncle Roderick shook his head. "That, Kate, is another story for another time. I've got work to do."

            She sighed. "I guess I do too…" She stood up reluctantly.

            "Welcome to the real world!" 

            Kate rolled her eyes at the overused cliché, but grinned just the same. "See you tomorrow!"

            Afternoon was as dull as morning. She found herself counting the minutes until six o'clock, looking up to the door expectantly, as though he would show up at any moment. Daydreaming, she lost track of time….

            "Wake up, Miss Gibbs! Time to go home!" said Mr. Diedei as he pulled on his traveling cloak. 

            "Oh! Yes, good…." 

            Her boss opened the door, and beyond it stood who but Tom Riddle, his hand poised as if just about to knock. 

            "Sorry," said Mr. Diedei. "Can I help you?"

            Tom was more than a head taller than Mr. Diedei, the boy had to look down at him. He seemed remarkably distracted, looking at the wall for a moment, then Kate, then finally at the man who had spoken.

            "I'm here for Kate Gibbs," he said finally.

            "Ah," said Mr. Diedei, with a look of dawning comprehension. He winked at Kate. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow, Miss Gibbs."

            Kate blushed, and when Mr. Diedei had left, she walked over to Tom and stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. There was a pause before he kissed her back, a pause in which Kate realized his lips were cold and his eyes were open. But then he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her and lifted her little body up to him, and she was thinking how crazy she must be, she was so in love with this one boy….

            Tom looked into her eyes, still holding her close. Kate was feverishly glad her boss had left. He opened his mouth, paused, and then whispered, "I love you."

            "I love you too," she said. He kissed her again, and at that moment she decided she would do anything, because Tom was everything, and as long as they were together everything would be wonderful, she would even come up to his room tonight if he asked her to….

            "I have to go," said Tom abruptly, killing the moment and jerking Kate out of her euphoria. 

            "Why?" she asked.

            He looked off to the left, as though avoiding her eyes. "I have work."

            "At seven at night?"

            He nodded.

            Despite herself, Kate pouted. "Oh…"

            "Don't follow me."

            "I wasn't going to---"

            "My work doesn't affect you, Kate. I won't have you coming after me into the rainforest again and getting yourself killed this time. Stay here."

            Something was wrong with his choice of words, or maybe it was the tone in his voice. For the first time, she felt slightly frightened in his presence. She was suddenly aware of how easily he could hurt her, if he wanted to---but then she remembered that he wouldn't, and smiled, and had that smile returned. He'd said so himself. He loved her.

            "Don't worry, Tom."

They walked together to the lifts, where she got into one and pressed the 'up' button. She waved to him, then the doors closed, and she rode patiently up to her apartment.

            It wasn't until she got there that she looked back, back at the lift doors. One set closed behind her. The light above the other pair flicked slowly, from floor one---her office---to two, to three. The light stopped on the third floor.

            "Could be anything," she muttered, but there was a firm pulling of something in her chest, and she knew she was going to check it out anyway. _Why don't I trust him?_

            _No, I trust him, _she thought as she raced down the stairs to the third floor. _Just…I'm too damn curious for my own good. Someday that's going to get you in trouble, Kate…._

            Mrs. Vinnlespeck was boarding the elevator. She looked at Kate without recognition, in fact, her customarily narrow and searching eyes were wide and blank. There was a flash of something there---for a moment they focused on the girl, who was standing in the middle of the hallway and out of breath---then it was gone. 

            _Something's wrong, something is most certainly, definitely wrong._

            Kate ran to the stairs again, reaching the ground floor just as Mrs. Vinnlespeck was walking out the front door. _She could just be going home…but why doesn't she Apparate? Why doesn't she have her cloak on?_

The sun was setting as she followed the old witch, being as stealthy as possible. The streets were still fairly busy, and Mrs. Vinnlespeck was obviously facing away, but Kate felt like she needed not to be seen---she was hiding from someone, only she wasn't sure who.

            Mrs. Vinnlespeck stopped, and so did Kate's heart. 

            From out of the shadows stepped the very boy she had been talking to only moments ago. Leaving the crowds behind, the two began to walk again, the witch a little further ahead, Tom a few paces back. _So it doesn't look like they're together. God, what is going on?_

            Kate knew where they were headed before they got there, though she kept hoping she was wrong. The last place in the world she wanted to be was that god-forsaken rainforest. She also knew that if it came down to such, she would most certainly go.

            "Damn the rainforest. Damn the bugs. Damn these stupid pricker-bushes…."

Kate did not allow herself to get lazy this time, as she had done before. She followed Tom and Mrs. Vinnlespeck cautiously but closely, keeping them visible always, using a silencing charm as she went to soften her footsteps. She was worried now, worried for Tom's sake. It was clear he wasn't cheating on her---Mrs. Vinnlespeck was old enough to be his grandmother---and she honestly knew he loved her, so that had been ruled out. She was afraid of what he was doing. _Or what his teacher's making him do. You never met him, remember. He could be mad. I mean, how normal is it to lead women secretly into the rainforest at night?_

            She stopped hastily, just before bursting into a large clearing. Tom and Mrs. Vinnlespeck had already entered, they were standing before a blue fire, talking to a tree stump. Wait, it moved…

            He was a little hunched-up old man, bones sticking out at all angles, scarcely any hair on his wrinkly head. His skin looked like old leather, and when he spoke his voice sounded like a rusty tin whistle, edgey and grating. And familiar.

            "You came through, Tommy!" he exclaimed giddily. 

            Tom smiled smugly. "And you doubted me."

            "I did, I did," said the old wizard unabashedly. He bowed to Mrs. Vinnlespeck, then took her hand and led her out of Kate's view. Tom flicked his wand, and suddenly, Mrs. Vinnlespeck began to scream.

            "LET GO OF ME, YOU FILTHY MAN! I'LL HAVE YOU ARRESTED! I'LL---" There was a pause, then an entirely different scream, this one of pure fright.

            "_Silencio!"_ said Tom. He looked uncaring, bored, almost….

            Kate swallowed hard and tried to whisper. "Tom! Tom!" She could talk to him now, before that creepy, disfigured guy returned….

            He looked up, then right at her in her hiding place some ten feet away. For the first time in her young life (and then only for a second), she saw what Tom looked like when he was scared.

            "What are you doing here?" he demanded, taking no notice of the fact she was trying to hide. "I told you not to come!"

            Kate didn't know what to say. "I---"

            "What have you got over there, Tom?" called the old wizard, hobbling over. He peered into the forest, his eyes adjusting to the dark, then widening. "Snake girl!" With a little hop he beckoned. "Come out, it's okay! Here, pretty pretty…come on, girl…."

            Kate looked to Tom, who shook his head, but motioned for her to come closer all the same. She stepped into the clearing, uncomfortably aware of the old man's gaze upon her.

            "Kate Gibbs, this is my teacher, Wygsyact."

            "Er, hello."

            Without waiting to be introduced, Wygsyact grabbed her hand and shook it violently. "Greeting, Kate!"

            She managed a weak smile, then looked urgently to Tom. "Could I talk to you? Er, alone?"

            "Clear off, Wygsyact," said Tom. She didn't think that was a very usual way for a student to talk to his teacher. Wygsyact glared, but scurried over to tend the magical fire.

            "Tom, what is going on?" asked Kate, looking troubled. Again she had the feeling that Tom was avoiding her eyes. "Please, just tell me."

            He continued looking down. "I told you not to come, Kate."

            "But---"

            "You shouldn't have come."

            "I---"

            "Go home, Kate!"

            He said these last words with such force that she jumped, taken aback. "No, Tom, not until you tell me what's going on!"

            "You wouldn't understand! Now LEAVE!" He pointed at the path so dramatically that sparks flew from the end of his wand.

            "You're scaring me, Tom."

            "Go. Home."

            "Aww, let her watch," said Wygsyact, coming over and handing Tom a silver mug. "Look at all the hard work we've done setting up, and now we have an audience!"

            For the first time, Kate looked properly at her surroundings. The clearing was round but asymmetrical, with the blue magical fire in the middle and a crumbly hut to her right. However, it was what she saw on her left that made her gasp, that made her wish she hadn't come, that made her heart speed up and her temperature go down.

            They were tied to trees, those poor people. Coarse ropes around their middles, feet, shoulders and necks. Leftmost was Mrs. Vinnlespeck, still trying to scream, though nothing was coming out of her mouth. Then there was a boy of about nine---he looked absolutely terrified---another girl, not so much older than Kate---she was limp, looking hopeless---a man with hiking clothes on---and last, the woman with the long dark hair, whom Kate had seen Tom walking with on her first trip to the rainforest. She was the most disturbing sight; if Kate hadn't noticed her chest rising and falling she would have taken her for dead. She was horribly pale, with a steady drip, drip of blood issuing from her wrist into a funnel which led to a bottle, her hair strewn everywhere and tangling. All of the people, save the last girl, looked at Kate with begging, pleading eyes.

            "They're not dead, not yet anyway," said Wygsyact, as though she couldn't tell. He glanced up at the sky. "Will be in about five minutes, though. Tom?"

            Tom kicked at the ground. "Go away, Kate."

            "No," she said faintly, her eyes matching the pleading ones of the prisoners. "You're not going to kill them…please tell me you're not, Tom, please…." She grasped his arm, forcing him to look at her.

            "This is my business. Not yours."

            Now Kate realized she was crying, that the tears were welling up and just spilling out, and she was shaking with fear. "Why, Tom? Why?"

            He jerked his arm from her. "I'm going to get what I want, Kate. In order for me to do it, these people need to die. Don't you remember? Never let anything keep you from getting what you want."

            "But what do you want? What is so important it's worth _lives_?"

            Wygsyact tapped his wrist, where a watch would be, if he wore one. 

            Tom looked at her, she could feel him seeing into her, he grabbed her by the shoulders and thought one word, only one word.

            _Power._

            "Leave, Kate Gibbs. This is the last time I'm going to tell you."

            He and Wygsyact strode to the fire, where a little cauldron sat nestled in the flames. They expected Kate to go. She stood rooted to her spot.

            "You can't, not for that," she said. "Tom, listen to me! You can't do this!"

            The man she loved glared at her. "Watch me." Wand in hand, he left the cauldron and advanced on the pale woman. 

            "You won't! I won't let you!" Kate pulled out her own wand and pointed it at him. "_Impedimenta!_" 

            Tom Riddle paused for only a second. "Don't do this, Kate! Don't get in my way too!"

            "_Locomotor Mortis!_" she cried.

            He reflected the curse with remarkable ease. "Surely you must know better than second-year spells? _Crucio!_"

            The curse only lasted a few seconds, but it seemed and eternity to Kate. She fell and writhed on the floor, screaming so that her throat burned when she recovered. He was looking at her, coldly. 

            "You will not let me kill these people?" he asked, oddly calm.

            She struggled for breath, shaking her head. "You don't really want to, Tom. You're power crazy, but you're not cruel! You're not heartless! You're not a murderer"

            He leaned down and kissed her lightly. His lips were cold, and then he laughed, and that was cold too. 

            "You are partially right," he said, "I am not a murderer. Yet. But you are mostly wrong.

            "I _do_ want this."

            There was a flash of green light. The wind hurried towards her from every direction.

            And with a rush of speeding air, Katie Gibbs died.


	12. Epilogue

Epilogue

            This is a story which needs no epilogue. What happened to Tom Marvolo Riddle after this, everyone knows. He went on to become the most feared practitioner of Dark Magic the wizarding world has ever seen. He and his minions killed hundreds of people, magic and Muggle alike. And it all started with a girl he called Katie.

            A part of Tom died that night too, but as Katie sensed, it had been dying for a long time. He never felt regret for any of those he killed, and she was no different. She had stood in his way, and now she was gone. It made no difference, the fact that she loved him, that she alone imagined good within him when there was truly none. It didn't reach his heart at all, how he had once loved her.

            I found the particulars of this story in my sister's diary, some years later, when I was at Hogwarts. I don't know what my family and I would have done without the support of the people there who knew Tom, knew my sister, and knew what we were going through. I'll tell you, the pain never ebbs when you lose your best friend. It's been over fifty years now, and I still feel it fresh as if it were last week. To some extent, I even think of Katie as my little sister---because she will never be older than me again. She remains perfect in my mind, a cheerful, playful picture of youth and all its naivety. 

            I hope that this book, short though it is, will find its way to many a person. Minerva, I know all the work you've put into helping me get this published. This is my last memorial to my sister, and I only pray that people will come to know her story, so her life will have not been in vain. 

            To everyone who reads this, I say: be careful who you trust; for it is trust that leads to love. And love, precisely like magic, can do great and terrible things.

Sincerely,

Carolyn "Carrie" Gibbs Dunmire

~*~*~*~

please review. See, I asked nicely again. :) Also, any questions, ask them….


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